


Fever Dreams

by Leni



Series: Cora's Daughter [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8529181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: A sick child. A worried mother.Rumpelstiltskin doesn't come to help either, but he has come anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookwormchocaholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormchocaholic/gifts).



> For Bookwormchocaholic. Prompt: What was Belle and Rumple's first meeting like?

It had to be a dream.

Mama was there, sitting next to her bed. Her hands were soft. They also felt cold without the sting of ice or the raspy feeling of a wet cloth. Even her voice was different tonight. So sweet. A croon in Belle’s ear as she said that this time she had to be the strongest, most stubborn little girl ever, and not give up.

A pretty dream, for all it had started with Mama striding into the room and screaming at Peggy and Mistress Rayne to get away.

Belle was sure it couldn’t possibly be real when an unfamiliar noise drew her attention to the far corner and a figure covered in a simple hooded cape stepped out of the shadows. A man, for all his features were hidden from view. A woman would have rushed to the sickbed, to take her temperature or wipe her sweat. This intruder stayed back, and Belle shivered in the sudden silence. There was no greeting, but the light from the candle flickered and gutted out, then reignited again. Each time preceded by a sharp click of his fingers.

Belle whimpered.

Her mother just heaved a sigh and stood to face the intruder. 

But the order to join the other servants never came. Neither did the man bow or fall to his knees.

Yes, it had to be a dream.

“Will she live?” her mother asked, her voice tight.

Belle wanted to call it worry. It would be nice to believe that Mama worried about her too.

“Queenship fits you, dearie. Motherhood…. Not so much.” A chuckle. “Where are your manners now?”

Her mother moved her hand away from Belle’s brow. The cooling sensation ceased, and Belle rustled sluggishly in her covers, seeking it again.

But her mother’s attention wasn’t on her anymore. “You’ve come to either gloat or make a deal. Tell me which it is, so we can be done sooner.”

He giggled. 

Belle blinked because mirth wasn’t a reaction she associated with her mother.

“Can’t I come to wish you luck?” the man asked, with a high trill that Belle had never heard from a human being.

“You don’t believe in luck.”

“I don’t believe in _fate_ ,” he corrected, “and I have you to thank for that. Can you blame me for coming to see where your little game will land you?”

“Not as some third-rate princess, which is all I could have aspired to if I’d married Xavier’s son. Admit it, old friend. I’d have been wasted on sweet little Henry.”

“Hmmm. Does this mean… _friend_ … that your husband pleases you?”

Belle squirmed at her mother’s laughter.

“Maybe,” the stranger said, his voice low, “it would have gone better if you’d picked the man who loved you blindly, rather than the king who would happily burn you if he could find someone willing to light the pyre.”

Belle decided she didn’t like this man.

But her mother still wouldn’t toss him out.

“Love! Don’t make me laugh. I bought this crown, and the one Belle will wear. I’d have done anything, to ensure my daughter would be queen.”

“Oh yes. I remember.” He made a mournful sigh. “I almost wish I could still promise that you will succeed, just so I knew how to tear your plans apart.”

“Did you start by poisoning a healthy child?”

“Tsk. So that is what happened. No wonder the hallways are slick with blood.” The man had lowered his voice, but the room was too small for his words not to reach Belle’s hearing. She thought of Peggy. Of old Rayne. Curled her knees to her chest and prayed this awful dream would just go away. But the stranger continued, “Such a shame, though, to have to get rid of a whole household just because you can’t spot the one traitor among their midst.”

He sounded more amused than disapproving, though.

Belle wanted to hide forever, when her mother’s voice followed on that note. “If no one came forward, then they’re all guilty.”

“Oh, but blame yourself for this, dearie. The daughter of a king’s fifth son wouldn’t have had to worry about court intrigue.” His voice drifted closer as he spoke. Belle wasn’t surprised when the stranger loomed at her bedside, though she puzzled that his shape was smaller than her mother. His body was angled to block the light from the candle, though, so she still couldn’t make out his features. “What does worry you, little one?” he asked more softly.

Belle stared at him, unable to understand what he wanted.

It was always important, to give a grown up the right answer.

In the end she saw him shrug and bend over her. Her flinch was more surprise than fear, but he still responded by pursing his lips and looking away as he pressed his hand. It seemed he would check her temperature too, after all. Unlike her mama, his skin felt rough, and as he swept the sweat of her forehead, Belle could feel her shorter loose curls snag with a fingernail.

She stayed very, very quiet.

(Good girls were quiet. That was the one thing everyone agreed on, when speaking to her.)

The stranger made some soothing noises, and then released her without more fuss. He turned around toward her mother, stepping into Belle’s field of vision so she could hear but not see either of their expressions

“You might wear the crown, dearie,” he hissed, back into the harsh tones, “but you don’t have their loyalty. Hardly much of a queen, aren’t you? But then… hardly much of a mother, either.” A low laugh, uninterrupted despite mama’s urgent questioning. “The girl will live,” he answered, and then shook his head. “Any parent worth the title would know she’s just running a fever by now, the danger behind her already.”

Belle’s mother didn’t bother with gratefulness at the news.

“Ah, yes,” she said. “Good parents.”

Even without looking, Belle knew that her mama would be smiling. She took in a deep breath, and slid down until the covers reached up to her ear. Then she pulled on her biggest pillow to try and disappear. 

“So, tell me, Rumple…. How fares your son?”

Belle squeezed her eyes shut at the strangled sound her mother made.

"Do not test me, Cora," the man hissed. "One more word, and I'll finish you."

Her mother said nothing.

There was a soft exploding sound, and then silence.

It wasn’t until a good half hour later, after repeating to herself that it had all been just a dream, that Belle eventually convinced herself to peek out from beneath her pillow.

Her room was empty. The candle remained her only companion.

Of course Mama didn’t come.

But the next morning neither her maid nor her governess came to see her, and the ones who came in their replacement refused to tell Belle why.

 

The End  
06/11/16


End file.
